


Double walker

by MyGrain



Category: Dracula (TV 2020)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:34:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26445685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyGrain/pseuds/MyGrain
Summary: There was something very wrong about Not-Agatha, something off.
Relationships: Dracula/Agatha Van Helsing
Comments: 16
Kudos: 60





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I don’t know if I’ll be updating this much, this story exists solely because the third episode of Dracula in modern London really irked me. The many plot issues aside, it really seemed like a Boomer’s idea of what the ‘youth’ is like, it was very awkward to listen to the dialogue in it and I say this as no spring chicken myself.

There was something very wrong about Not-Agatha, something off. He could see it wasn’t Agatha, it was obvious from the voice, the mannerisms, the strange heartbeat, the  _ era _ . A considerable few years must have passed since the Demeter blew up, too much time for Agatha to have remained unchanged. The child he was facing was from the same lineage, he was certain of that, perhaps she’d have the same kick to her flavour as her ancestor did.

But something was wrong with her, although he couldn’t quite figure out what. He played around with the others, waiting, watching for her reactions. When he shot the woman in the head, he finally saw what he’d been looking for.

She didn’t blink, didn’t so much as flinch even as her voice rose. “Don’t shoot him, do not shoot him!” She said, even as Dracula had a gun to her throat.

“Smile,” He asked of her.

“No.” Her voice, so much like Agatha’s said. The pulse was all wrong, too calm, too steady, not lively at all. He snatched the card hanging around her neck off instead, Zoe Van Helsing it read.

“Van Helsing, descendant I assume.” He hadn’t seen anything about Agatha having a child before turning to the convent in her memories. It had mostly been about reading books, consulting on any ‘strange’ occurrences in the near vicinity, with a few tumbles in her teenage years with her neighbour’s nephew and a visiting sailor.

“Sister Agatha Van Helsing was my great-great-aunt on my father's side.” Not-Agatha said.

Agatha wouldn’t have done that. She wouldn’t have just given away information like that, she would have made him work for it, maybe throw a bit of blood about to pretend at power over him. He missed her.

“I really liked her.” No sooner had the words left his mouth when he saw that weird flash again. 

If Dracula was a mortal he wouldn’t have caught it, wouldn’t have seen that momentary change in demeanour, that ever so minute flick of her eyebrow.

“By my understanding you killed her,” She was back to being boring again. He was tired of it and summoned his bats.

“Killing is healthy competition, mercy is disrespect.” He told Not-Agatha, and left as his bats swarmed down creating the perfect distraction. Within seconds he stood high above them all, and watched as they rushed around like little rabbits, scattering in the presence of a predator. Not-Agatha shouted out a million different orders, with words he hadn’t quite learnt the meaning of thrown about like ammunition. Under her guidance they regained their decorum, delegated to their orders. 

Dracula watched for a short while but as time went on and the mystery that was Not-Agatha stayed unravelled, he left. 

He was  _ famished. _

* * *

Jack couldn’t be there on the beach with Zoe when Dracula came ashore but he was waiting for her at the institute, excited beyond belief. When he heard that Sara had been shot and died, he’d been horrified and the excitement at the discovery of the century had been dulled by the fear grasping him.

They had been told that Dracula was dangerous, that there was a reason they were paid so well but up until that very point, the danger hadn’t been driven home. Zoe returned from the beach in fine form, coat swishing dramatically behind her as she commanded her team.

“Keep an eye out on local luxury goods store, clothing, jewellery and book stores, his psychological profile indicates vanity and curiosity as his major defining traits. The account of the Demeter indicates he’ll go for an easy target first to learn to assimilate but moves to more ‘interesting’ people easily, we have to catch him as soon as we can before he starts learning the ins and outs of how things work. He already has a head start given that he’s had Kate’s thumb in his mouth so we need to change our entire setup here, keep him as unfamiliar with all of this as we can, is that clear?” The team could only nod in agreement before rushing off and Jack was filled with a sense of awe.

Zoe had been different since her diagnosis and her subsequent recovery. She’d pulled away from everyone before but come back stronger than ever, lively in a way Jack had never seen her be before. When she’d come back to the institute after her few months of leave, she’d been like a demon when it came to work, no sign of exhaustion or malaise at all, and it was unexpected but more than welcome. Zoe had set into motion multiple investigations within the Harker institute, their funding, their staff, the legalities of their work and so much more. She’d just put forth a proposal for a brand new research venture when it had been put on the back burner because of the discovery of the Demeter’s wreck. 

Jack, of all people, was particularly grateful for her burst of energy. It was that burst that had driven her to ask him what was wrong after the second time he’d slept with Lucy and fancied himself in love with her. Zoe, who had sat him down and talked to him, asked him probing questions that led to his escape from that weird state of mind he’d been in. He hoped Lucy was happy but knew now that there was nothing really there to their relationship. No substance, no common goals. It had been fun to get a glimpse into the life of someone so very different but that glimpse had been enough. He shuddered to think what would have become of him if he was still deluded about being in love with her.

* * *

_ “There’s no one but you to miss me.” _ Zoe had told Agatha upon her diagnosis. Agatha was the first person she’d called, the person she’d wanted there as she talked to the doctor about the cancer and the options open to her.

She wasn’t a loner exactly, just someone who drifted away easily. Hadn’t adapted to social media the way her friends had and just lost contact. They talked on the phone on occasion but only to catch up, nothing else.

_ “They will attend my funeral and say kind words, perhaps cry a little bit, but then return to their lives unchanged.”  _ She said, and so arranged for no funeral whatsoever. Zoe died on her own terms, as part of a clinical trial of a new cancer treatment under an alias Agatha had procured for her and upon her death, Agatha staked her through the heart and buried her herself, before getting to work.

Because Zoe had dedicated her life to the institute, and had asked Agatha to continue her work for her, live  _ as  _ her.

Agatha had lived a very long life, 156 years was more than most people could claim. In all her life she had never gotten as strange a request as that. But for her brother’s great granddaughter, she was willing to do it, live a lie.

But her long life had made her arrogant. She had gotten used to knowing more than the people around her and it had come back to bite her in the ass. In a single week’s leave that she’d taken to investigate the Harker institute’s sponsors, they had found the Demeter’s hull. She couldn’t restrict their search without giving them a reason why she didn’t want them making the ‘discovery of the century’ and it had cost her.

Because of course, they found Dracula, and now she was stuck playing a game with him again and had to pretend to be the very human Zoe Van Helsing instead of the Vampire that Agatha truly was.


	2. Chapter 2

Zoe’s job was exhausting to do, especially because while Zoe had loved it, Agatha most certainly did _not_. It was especially exhausting as Agatha had her own work to do, a self assigned mission, for sure but one that needed to be done.

Every night, once most people were asleep and the only people up were mostly high (or low) on some drug that rendered their testimony invalid, Agatha went about graveyards. She listened for the sounds of the undead knocking on their coffins, shuffling up and about, reaching from shallow graves and staked them through the heart, saying a prayer for them. She had done it for decades now, helped those poor souls crying out to be killed, pass on. Most groundskeepers of graveyards knew her by sight, nodding, knowing that secret the others did not. It was a thankless job but having mastered multiple professions through the decades, Agatha knew that almost all jobs were.

The sun was just about to rise when she got the call. Agatha was glad she didn’t need to sleep because otherwise this would be far more difficult. It was Kate, telling her about having a lead on Dracula. A shop had been broken into, an expensive suit taken from it and the CCTV cameras had caught Dracula in the act, strolling through the premises casually. With a sigh, Agatha put the stakes into her bag and picked up the shovel, leaving it outside the groundskeeper’s cabin.

By the time she reached the institute, Dracula had broken into multiple shops, terrorised a couple of people in a car park before absconding with a drunk.

“He’s hungry,” She said and Kate looked at her curiously. “This Bob guy, there’s nothing special or interesting about him.” They had his social medias and those of his close ones all splayed out over the screen. It was pretty typical of any abusive alcoholic, near empty but made fuller for how his wife posted about him.

Although, given Dracula’s addiction, it could very well just be that Bob injured himself and his blood triggered Dracula’s response. Either way, Bob was likely dead, there wasn’t likely much in way of conversation Dracula would want from him and keep him alive for.

“Ma’am, we’ve tracked the car Dracula was last seen in. It’s outside its registered address, the residence of Bob and Kathleen Turner.”

“The sun’s out, we have him trapped in that house.” Kate said.

“With another person, we need to get her out before we do anything.”

“There’s no time to waste, I’ve called for an excavator, we tear the roof down over his head and force him into a box.”

And Agatha paused. Zoe would have been delighted with Kate’s proficiency and initiative. Agatha, who knew that Kate was the one who had encouraged a larger search area, and had left her thumb in Dracula’s mouth, a stunningly idiotic move if there ever was one, was suspicious.

Wasn’t it convenient that Zoe’s right hand woman suggested a broader search area just as she was on leave? Wasn’t it convenient that despite knowing that Dracula was known to drink blood and feed upon people, a trained scientist’s first response to seeing a perfectly preserved body was to check the mouth with bare hands?

Wasn’t it convenient that upon investigating some of the Harker institute’s funding and the people behind them, that Agatha had found them to be involved in some sort of cult obsessed with immortality?

For now Agatha played along, Zoe certainly would have.

Kathleen Turner was still alive. Infrared cameras had picked her up, seen her clearly frightened but very alive. They called her on her mobile, giving her clear instructions on what to do. If Agatha could keep at least one person alive she would do so.

“Get in the box.” Agatha told Dracula. Kathleen had rushed out of the house, leaving the door open just as they had told her to and Agatha had Jack take over her well being, the poor woman was clearly in shock.

“How did you find me?”

“It’s not difficult to follow a trail of devastation. The sun is up, you need to get in the box.”

“Umm, you may not have noticed but there’s a roof over my head.” Dracula said and Agatha felt the anger rise. He always had to be such a wisecrack, didn’t he? Like a teenager vacillating between philosophical depths and backchat.

Agatha nodded at the man operating the excavator, “I’ve noticed.”

It broke through the roof, right where they’d left his ‘box’. Dracula all but screamed and the part of Agatha who had wept as her fellow sisters had been slaughtered, laughed.

“Get in the box.” Agatha smiled at hearing the panic in his voice. He was panting, which was quite funny really, as a vampire he didn’t even need to breathe. A return to basic human behaviour in moments of fear, how interesting. “Did you hear me? Are you in the box?”

“Meet me downstairs.” He said, still sounding terrified, she could hear him sniff and gasp, and the sheer vindictive pleasure of the moment had her acquiescing.

“Zoe, are you sure about this?” Jack asked as she prepared to walk in, Kate helping fit a mic to her so they could listen in on anything going on.

“Oh, yes, I’m quite certain.” Agatha said and waited until Kate had walked off to smile at him with vastly more reassurance, “I’m not defenceless.” She took a pepper spray bottle out of her pocket and Jack snorted.

“I don’t what good pepper spray will do against a centuries old vampire.”

“Oh it’s not pepper spray. It’s the blood of a person with stage three leukemia. Even if it doesn’t get into his mouth, it’s certain to fly into his eyes, nose etc. One mucous membrane is as good as any so it should work.”

“’Should’ doesn’t mean ‘will’.” Agatha smiled at Jack’s concern. _They_ might not know it would work but she certainly did. Through most of the world’s major wars, she’d been working as a nurse. Once, when a grenade had gone off and the blood and viscera of the dying septic patient she was treating had rained down on her, she’d gone into a state of catatonia. Her lack of a heartbeat combined with a lack of responsiveness had led them to believe she was dead and even though they’d been baffled by her lack of rigor mortis, it was war time and so she’d been buried in a shallow grave that she’d dug herself out of after a few days of slow and steady recovery. Dracula was sure to not cooperate, and she would enjoy watching him get stuck in that same state she’d been in. She estimated a faster recovery time for him but it would still be a good defence. And once it was proven to work against him, she could hand them out to Jack and the others as a vampire deterrent.

“Have faith.” Agatha told Jack and went into the house feeling like Mina Murray would be rather proud of her.

True to form, Dracula couldn’t resist playing with his food and in less than a minute inside the house, Agatha as Zoe, let loose a giant spray of infected blood in Dracula’s face as he tried and failed to intimidate her.

“This might just be the most satisfying thing I’ve ever done.” She commented casually as Dracula slumped to the floor, twitching and throwing up blood and people stormed the house, frantically picking him up and stuffing him into the prepared box.

“You did it,” Jack said in a thin voice, barely able to contain his grin. “It worked.”

“I did tell you.” Agatha smirked but it faded the more she watched the hub-hub around her, and how Kate was a lot more in control of it than ‘Zoe’ was. She held the pepper spray bottle out for Jack to take but he just looked at her confused. “You should take the day off. Go out have some fun. Things are going to get hectic around here and I’d rather you were well rested for it.”

Agatha was adamant about keeping Jack Seward alive. She would not let him become one of Dracula’s victims, not when he was the only person apart from her who still remembered the real Zoe.

Jack shot her a knowing look. “You’re going to do some housekeeping aren’t you?” His eyes were following Kate’s every move and Agatha knew he understood. “Call me if you need me.” He said and walked off in the direction of the closest bus stop.

Agatha watched him walk off before turning back to the others. Kate caught her eye and shot her a triumphant smile.

Agatha looked forward to knocking it off her face.


	3. Chapter 3

The big glass box they put him in was not to his liking. Dracula honestly preferred the confines of the coffin like one he’d been transported in, he’d always slept in crypts and coffins and it felt infinitely more homely than the ridiculous ‘room’ with a fucking  _ toilet _ in it for some god forsaken reason.

The bits and pieces he’d gathered from Bob’s blood indicated it was supposed to be for ‘human rights’ purposes. It was  _ ridiculous,  _ was what it was, not unlike his first time in captivity under the Ottomans. Weaponising kindness and niceties to turn a person to their side, there was nothing innovative about it save for the fact that it was packaged nicely.

Bob wasn’t a particularly interesting man. Dracula had just been hungry and Bob had been there so he fed on him. A run of the mill alcoholic who abused everyone around him. But his blood turned out to be rather useful for the simple fact that he’d been arrested on multiple occasions and had lawyers explain his rights to him every time. Rights, what a farce, but one he’d use to his advantage when needed to

Because they couldn’t keep him here, not without admitting to their own less than legal activities. Dracula knew that maintaining the veneer of righteousness and legality was more important to institutions and the Jonathan Harker foundation was no different. They’d given him an ipad loaded with tons of books and Dracula’d ignored them all, a simple glance through the titles enough to tell him what a farce it was. They were fiction mostly, some were more informational but the core purpose of the books were clearly to keep him just ignorant enough of the world to be easily malleable. Honestly, it was like they never read Agatha’s notes at all, blood was lives and he’d consumed the blood of one of their own, let alone that of Bob. Dracula was many things, ignorant was not one of them. 

So he’d bypassed all their ‘books’ and logged into the wifi instead, finding his lawyers and sending them an email to be at the ready at any point in the next few days but for now he waited.

Dracula was eager to talk to Not-Agatha, Miss Zoe Van Helsing who’d weaponised blood. How morbidly delicious, Dracula wished he’d been able to sample her flavour. Finally someone who’d read Agatha’s notes. Dracula’d peered into Agatha’s mind, he knew what she’d written, what Mina Murray had been there to listen to and yet most of these idiots seemed to have no idea of it.

But Zoe knew, Zoe  _ saw _ .

And he wanted to have a long conversation with her and from the sound of the heels clicking that grew closer, he was just about to do exactly that. 

“Good morning Count Dracula. How are you settling in?” Zoe said and even though her voice and heartbeat were even and calm, the eyes glimmered with a good cheer. It was unusual to see it in someone who knew what he was.

“Well, uh, I have a chemical toilet. And this.” He wanted to see what she thought of it, what she would say. Would she admit to trying to keep him in the dark by restricting him to those books or would she keep it a secret?

“A good book is a lovely thing to have, I find it improves the quality of time spent. ”

Why did those words sound so familiar to him?

“Well, I need more than just books, Zoe.” She ignored his words, smiling as she pulled a lever. His box moved with a whirr, and the ceilings opened up to let sunshine in, forming a little patch of safety for Zoe to step into.

Part of Dracula was excited at the new match of a game offered to him. But in truth he was mostly disappointed, even villagers had made a defence out of sunlight against him, one particularly intelligent woman had used mirrors to shine it through even the darkest corners to keep him away. 

Frankly after the weaponized blood it seemed rather...paltry.

“Take off your coat and roll up your left sleeve.” She said from behind the glass door.

“Why.”

“Because I want a sample of your blood to see if the DNA of your victims runs in your veins.”

Clever, clever girl. He rolled up his sleeve, letting her think she had the upper hand, knowing fully well that the syringe needle wasn’t going to pierce his skin. Metal never did, not unless he let it, refined metals especially. Oddly enough, ores did pierce through him easily, ores and wood. He recovered quickly but they did work.

“Now then, I’m coming in. I suggest that you refrain from attempting to attack me. As you might have noticed we have mercenaries at hand to keep you in check.” The way she spat out the word mercenaries and all but glared at the man standing outside his cell intrigued him.

“So you're a doctor this time, are you? I think I preferred the disappointed nun.”Dracula wanted to see what she made of it. He was in the strange position of not knowing her nearly as well as he wanted to, hadn’t tasted his blood, what he gleaned from Kate’s made her seem like a sharp, strict thing. easy to manipulate but when he saw her, heard her talk, smelled her lack of fear, she seemed very different.

Off.

Perhaps his mistake was in thinking of her as Not-Agatha, from the looks of it she was more Not-Zoe.

“Everyone has the right to their preferences, you have yours I have mine. I would much rather you were a kind benevolent man, rather than a warlord of a vampire, but alas.” Her cheer was grating on Dracula. It was so reminiscent of Agatha, her tendency to be laughing and amused, even in the face of death.

“So tell me, what is the Jonathan Harker Foundation?”

She ignored him, intent on the way that the needle wouldn’t pierce his hide. “I can’t seem to penetrate the skin,” She sighed but shrugged it off and yet again, he was so reminded of Agatha it near hurt. He took the vial from her and cut his wrist open, eager to feel the physicality of what pain could be, ground him to the fact that Agatha was dead.

“Johnny was a fine man. What has this place got to do with him?” He repeated and finally got a reaction.

“You remember Jonathan Harker, do you?” she nearly spat out, thunder on her face.  _ There  _ it was again, that flash of wrongness. From the look on her face someone might think that it was a personal offense she was taking to Dracula saying Jonathan’s name but  _ why _ ? Why was she annoyed by this but not by the straight insult he levelled at her person before? “Do you remember Mina then, his fiance? She escaped your little tantrum at the convent and when her father died leaving her his fortune, she established this, the Jonathan Harker foundation in his honour.”

“And you Zoe Van Helsing, some relation to Agatha, the woman who sacrificed herself to save that chit, just coincidentally happened to end up working here, did you?”

“Mina Murray did her utmost to attain the Van Helsing family’s cooperation. It helped that they had a history of researching legends. A lot of the people in Britain weren’t too willing to take her up on researching Eastern European legends as a scientific reality. It was academic suicide.”

“And you continued in your ancestor’s steps. Nepotism, I heartily approve.” 

“For the most part we work in medical sciences as a research laboratory but with the stipulation that were you ever to be found you would be trapped, studied, understood and taught to feed humanely.” Under her breath she muttered, “Teach an ancient dog new tricks.”

“Medical science, you say? I know mercenaries when I see them. Who's funding this place? Because people who can afford mercenaries are very rarely interested in medicine. You're withholding information, I'm giving you everything. Blood is lives. Everything is in the blood, Zoe, if you know how to read it.” He had to goad her, see how she reacted, see if she’d drink his blood as he wanted her to.

“Yes, but we can’t read it like you can can we? That is precisely what makes you such a unique specimen. Besides, not  _ all  _ blood is lives, some is death, as you found out in Kathleen’s house” The edges of her mouth lifted in a smug smirk. “Now then, if you would please open your mouth?”

“Going to stick your thumb in are you?”

“Always so dramatic, “ She chided and Dracula wondered at her familiarity with him, even though this was only the third time they’d met. “I just want a swab from the inside of your cheek.”

“Doctor, I need to speak to you,'' Kate said and Dracula, annoyed at Zoe’s unresponsiveness to his games, decided to take it out on the other woman instead.

“Kitty-kat, there you are,” she flinched at hearing him call her by the name her little sister did. Dracula saw all of that in her blood, the tenuous relationship with the baby sister who’d gotten very disturbed when she found some of Kitty-kat’s very unethical research data lying around. The twisted, miserable expression on her face made Dracula smile.

“You’re off duty Dr Bloxham.” Zoe said, firm and angry, striding out of the room, leaving the tray with the samples in there with him. The way she angled the tray away, all but hiding it from Kitty-kat’s view, Dracula was certain she trusted him with the samples more than she did Dr Bloxham. “Violating that order will result in a dismissal. You’ve been told that.”

“This is more important than that Zoe, he’s called a bloody lawyer.” Kate ‘whispered’ to her and Dracula watched as Renfield, whom he’d skyped a while ago came in behind her.

“Hello, may I ask who you are?” She politely asked Renfield, ignoring Kate’s little whispers, tossing a particularly vicious glare at her that quieted the woman down.

“I’m Count Dracula’s lawyer, Mr Renfield.”

“Of course, Billington and Sons, or Hawkins and Wentworth?” She said and Dracula startled.

She knew the name of the law firms he’d engaged since 1896, why did she know that?

“Uhm Hawkins and Wentworth, may I ask how-”

“Am I legally required to answer?”

“Not at the moment, no.”

“Well then, I don’t think I’ll be answering your questions at the moment,” Zoe said. 

“Yes well, if I may confer with my client?” Renfield was clearly taken aback and Dracula couldn’t blame him. This was unexpected to say the least.

“Oh yes, of course,” Zoe pointed him in the direction of Dracula’s box with a pleasant smile, “It’ll give me the time to deal with Dr Bloxham here.” 

Dracula could only watch as Zoe escorted Kitty-kat out the room, a firm hand on her arm.

“That’s more cooperation than expected. Less questions as well.” Renfield said, a frown as he watched the two disappear before turning to Dracula with an idiotic grin. “Master, they have no way of keeping you here. Not without publicising the death of their employees, which isn’t likely to go well for them. Besides that, your existence is perfectly legal and we can have you out of here in the next hour itself.”

“I don’t mind waiting a bit. The deadline stays of course, but I don’t see the need to rush this. Perhaps we can even come to an arrangement, I wouldn’t mind lending some assistance to the  Jonathan Harker foundation. Provided, of course, that Dr Zoe Van Helsing is the one asking.”

A sudden rush of movement outside the box caught their attention. The mercenary outside held a finger up to the ear, clearly getting new instructions and the massive gun in his hands was lowered. He went up to the same panel Zoe had stopped by and pulled the lever and the sun roof overhead slowly and steadily closed. 

“Mr Renfield, I’ve been tasked with escorting you and your client to the conference room.” He said and opened the door that had closed behind Renfield when he first entered. “If you would follow me.”

This went far beyond cooperation. Something else was going on, and Dracula didn’t quite know what. 

In the conference room, a room that looked rather like Dracula's cell with its glass walls, they found Zoe sat at the head of the table. Kate was standing nearby, talking at what seemed to be plain air because Zoe certainly wasn’t responding, and the multitude of people milling in and about the room with papers and more in hand, some leaving them in front of Zoe, some taking them away, paid her no mind either.

“Mr Renfield, I must say I find your work rather impressive. You’ve left us with no choice but to let your client go despite the events of the last few days. As of right now you are free to leave the foundation, I’ll have security show you the way out.” Kate tried to whisper something in Zoe’s ear but was pushed away easily. “I don’t suppose you’re open to having the Jonathan Harker foundation as a client?”

“There might be a conflict of interest, I’m afraid.”

“We already have a legal team, Zoe what are you doing?” Kate beseeched and finally Zoe turned to her.

“I think you’d better collect your things Dr Bloxham. As a lawyer representing his client, Mr Renfield has more reason to be here than you do as a  _ former _ employee.”

“I have given my flesh and blood for this institute, you can’t just-”

“Pack your things Kate, and tell Mr Mathers his interference will no longer be tolerated.”

“Where did you hear that name?” Kate whispered, pale and Zoe smiled.

“On second thought I’ll have security show all three of you out.” Zoe smiled, standing and nodded at one of the many mercenaries lining the passage and they entered the room, surrounding Kate who was soon escorted out. Zoe turned to Renfield with a smile. “Please be sure to turn in the visitor’s badge at the front desk. Have a good night.” 

It took the entirety of the walk out the foundation and then a few miles in the car prepared for him for Dracula to calm down from the rage coursing through him. It angered him, to be taken so lightly, to be pushed to the side for other priorities. He was used to being the biggest fish in the pond, this casual treatment was rather grating.

A near growl escaped him and Renfield looked at him with a mixture of fear and awe, the exact reaction that Zoe should have had. 

“I want to know everything you can find on Zoe Van Helsing, Kate Bloxham and whoever that Mathers was that she blabbered on about.”

He  _ would  _ consume her everything, starting with her attention.


End file.
